


Baby, It's Cold In This Hideout

by alpacasandravens



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Established Relationship, Huddling For Warmth, M/M, its wintertime guys, tis the season for huddling for warmth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-19
Updated: 2019-11-19
Packaged: 2021-02-13 02:33:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21486886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alpacasandravens/pseuds/alpacasandravens
Summary: Jonathan thinks a lot of things through. His experiments. His fear toxin. He does not think about the weather.Or, it's very cold, and Jervis complains about it, and what better way to warm up than by cuddling?
Relationships: Jonathan Crane/Jervis Tetch
Comments: 2
Kudos: 66





	Baby, It's Cold In This Hideout

**Author's Note:**

> for @bubble-beetle on tumblr for their dedication to the winter fic tropes

It’s cold in Gotham. It’s been cold for months, the wind whipping around the tight corners of the buildings and howling down the narrow alleys, spreading the smell of dumpsters and a chill that went straight through coats and cut down to the bone. It had snowed, but not recently. Dirty piles of snow more brown and gray than white sits in the shadows, melted and refrozen into sharp ice. 

Jonathan Crane’s laboratory isn’t much warmer. In the month or two since he broke out of Arkham (for what wasn’t the first and certainly wouldn’t be the last time), Jonathan had set up shop in a rickety building near the waterfront. In the summer, this would be a strategic location, somewhere Penguin would be sure he controlled. But now, when the Gotham river is filled with floating chunks of ice and the smell of fish is diluted from weeks of cold too fierce for work, it is empty.

Well, almost empty.

A long table stretches across the length of the building, concrete surface darkly stained from years of fish guts. In the summers, Penguin’s gang uses this table to process their imported weapons. Now, small glass beakers are spread across it. Most are empty, but some are filled with liquids of alarming colors. One, a pipette of a green fluid, is frozen solid. A small crack runs up the glass.

“I’m going to freeze to death.”

The voice comes not from Jonathan, who is bent over a notebook filled with his spidery handwriting, but from a small figure in the corner. Unmistakably Jervis Tetch, the Hatter has pulled his signature hat down over his ears, despite the fact that a top hat does next to nothing to keep his ears warm, and hugs his knees to his chest under Jonathan’s single, ratty blanket. 

“I appreciate your hospitality in offering your hideout while the GCPD raid mine, but I may as well have stayed there. My body will be found in the morning. I’ll be an icicle! At least in Arkham—”

“Don’t be overdramatic.” 

“You will be too,” Jervis says solemnly. “You know it’s true.”

Jonathan glares at him and, consulting the notebook, picks up a beaker. “It isn’t cold. And I’m working.”

Jonathan’s words are less than convincing. As Jervis continues to ramble about his imminent demise, Jonathan attempts to pour a small amount of liquid from the beaker he holds into another, but shivers so violently he spills a considerable amount on the table. 

“It’s not cold,” Jonathan says before Jervis can comment.

“I don’t believe you. Frostbite must be approaching - I wouldn’t be surprised if my lips were turning blue!”

“They’re not.”

The sides of the building groan in protest as another gust of wind hit it, and the metal sheeting doesn’t stop the wind from breaking through. There are no windows in the building, but if there were Jonathan and Jervis might have seen a thick, dirty snow begin to fall.

The tips of Jonathan’s fingers start to sting, like small pins are poking them from the inside out. Jervis has finally stopped complaining though, so he doesn’t mention it.

Jervis mumbles something that sounds like “Snow, snow, go away,” that Jonathan attempts to tune out. He honestly hadn’t known it was going to be this cold. Sure, it was winter, but winter in Gotham could mean anything from perpetual rain to a winter wonderland. Or, apparently, to this: something in between, a winter that was cold and gross.

The liquid in the beaker Jonathan had just mixed began to change color, from a light blue to a rather alarming yellow-green. He tried to record the finding in his notebook, but gave up after a shiver made his first words unreadable. 

“Come here, my dear March Hare.”

When Jonathan didn’t immediately move to Jervis’s side, he continued. “I insist. You won’t get work done like this.”

He was right, but that didn’t mean Jonathan was going to admit it. Instead, he sat next to Jervis in silence, close enough that their sides pressed together. His usual expression often gave off a distinct impression of disapproval, so he tried to smile somewhat so Jervis would know he wasn’t truly annoyed. The smile turned out more like a grimace.

“Why, it’s warmer already!” Jervis beamed, placing the blanket he’d been wearing over Jonathan’s legs as well as his own.

“I heard,” Jonathan said, eyes fixed on a particular cobweb on the ceiling, “that the most effective way of preserving heat is by chest to chest cuddling.”

“Are you asking me to cuddle with you?”

“No.” He felt strangely vulnerable, and he didn’t like it. He shouldn’t feel like this in a place this isolated, with someone he knew was one of his favorite people (not that there was much competition).  
“Just a bit of information.”

“Are you sure? We’ve cuddled often enough before.”

Jonathan sighed a long-suffering sigh and turned to face Jervis, arms extended as if for a hug. In a maneuver that was more awkward than it had any right to be, they shuffled their way from a sitting hug into a hug while laying down. Jervis’s hat fell off in the process. Jonathan pulled the blanket up to their shoulders, though it did very little to warm them. 

“This certainly feels like cuddling,” Jervis said, worming his way even closer to Jonathan and burying his face in his chest. 

“Fine.”

“Do you have a pillow?” Jervis asked, his voice muffled. “Or have you hidden a comfortable bed somewhere in this hideout?”

“No.”

“Where do you sleep?”

Jonathan didn’t answer.

“You do need to sleep, dear.”

He sighed and rolled away from Jervis to bundle up his Scarecrow cape, which he handed to the Hatter. Jervis tucked it under his head and pulled Jonathan back, immediately burrowing as close to him as possible. 

“You’re insufferable.” Jonathan’s thumb slowly moved up and down where it rested on Jervis’s back. The warehouse wasn’t warm by any standard, but he thought they both knew it wasn’t cold enough to necessitate this. Not that he minded.

“You love me.” Jervis’s voice was muffled from speaking into Jonathan’s chest. 

“Unfortunately.”

“You’re staying with me tomorrow. I have a space heater, and a bed with a pillow.”

“Your hideout’s being raided tomorrow, remember?”

A pause. “Drat.”

There were, Jonathan thought, a lot of things he should probably do. Finish the experiment he’d been running, for one. Clean up his workstation. Look into purchasing or stealing a space heater. But for now, he was comfortable - or, as comfortable as one could be while lying on concrete. Outside, the snow continued to accumulate, settling over the remnants of the previous week’s storm. On the floor of the warehouse, Jervis hummed something low and nonsensical until he fell asleep. Jonathan got a cramp in his neck, but he kept holding onto Jervis until he too slept.

**Author's Note:**

> heyo if you enjoyed leave a comment/kudos below!!


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